


Let Them In

by Leviathanstongue



Category: Afraid of Monsters & Cry of Fear
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, Gun Violence, Suicide, Therapy, This is a friend fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:40:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24186778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leviathanstongue/pseuds/Leviathanstongue
Summary: Simon takes a different approach; couples counseling. Except they aren't a couple, and half of the party is unaware that it's happening.He's working it out in his own mind to save his friendship.
Relationships: Simon Henriksson/Sophie
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Listen If You Hate Someone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knivpojke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knivpojke/gifts).



> This is a pre-story chapter to line the moment before the story changes into an AU. Just an intimate moment with a mentally ill man fighting with himself.
> 
> Changes of perspective between book Simon and author Simon will be separated by new chapters.

Of course it hurt.

"Aw, Simon. I like you too. Just... not in that way."

Recalling the scene in his mind, reliving it, shattered his chest and hollowed it in one sweep. Of course Simon couldn't write it how it truly happened, the shame and embarrassment ran too deep. Instead this time he was calm, let her speak, and didn't beg. He didn't crawl.

God, what a mistake telling her was.

Simon put down his pen and let himself weep. It was needed. The venom had to leave his body one drop at a time. It was grief. Dr. Purnell wasn't so aware of what he was going through. Simon was too proud to open up to anyone, even Sophie who was, against her wellbeing, doing her best to support him. The frustration and the resentment would climb up his chest and into his heart and mind. He was volatile. Sophie deserved better in her life, but he couldn't help but feel hatred when faced with the embarrassment of his own groveling. When he couldn't cry anymore, Simon picked up his pen once more.

Sophie dies. She jumps off the rooftops and hits the cement ground like a spoiled tomato, thick mush and red liquid covering the ground. Simon pauses his hand and grimaced at his own petty thoughts, this was his friend. Someone he loved. His jaw tensed. He didn't want to say she was dead to him. He didn't want to say this was the end of her in his life.

Simon stared at his phone which lay inches from his journal. He knows she's texted him god only knows how many times, asking if he's okay. How is therapy going? Have you seen your parents lately? I'm worried, Simon, please answer. He felt exhausted. Why is it that when someone shows care or wants his presence he only feels tired? He should feel grateful to have someone, anyone, worried about his wellbeing.

Even more, what the fuck was wrong with him? This was the person who he protected from bullies at school, who he shared pizza with on movie night. What did he let this become?

Slowly an idea came to him. Something he thought might save his story. He scribbled out the paragraph describing her fall to death and the monster that rose in her place. Maybe he needed Sophie to protect him this time. She was the only person he still trusted to do so after all.

Everything would be different this time. It had to be.


	2. Orange Lens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's dark outside.

Sophie suddenly stood, staring blankly out at the dark city sky. She continued to speak about the importance of their friendship before sliding ever closer to the ledge. The breath in Simon's throat caught as she turned to face him again, a foot thoughtfully hovering behind her. A final puff of frozen air from her lungs contrasted the pitch black night as her body tipped over the edge.

Simon's hands caught Sophie's before she could fall, pulling her back down in a forceful tug that brought them both stumbling down into the ground. He could swear he heard his back crack in three different places as it collided with the concrete roof. Simon cursed loudly and whispered a few more before even making an attempt to stand again. Remembering Sophie he turned to make sure she was alright and she seemed fine, only a questioning look on her face giving any sign of thought.

"Why would you do that?!" Simon yelled. Sophie winced noticeably and scattered to find out how to respond.

"What happened, why are you yelling at me?" Her tone was laced with defensive hurt. Of course Simon felt guilty, but can't she understand what she did was dangerous? How does she not know what she just did?

Simon offered his hand, though his posture reflected the now hurt back from their fall. "Do you really n-" His eyes grew wide as something began to float up from the ledge Sophie almost flung herself off of. "Sophie we have to move."

"What are you talking about, Simon, you're scaring-" Suddenly just as she was pulled up, Sophie was pushed aside by Simon. She didn't see what happened, but he made an obviously pained noise. "Simon?" He crumpled over again, gripping his shoulder. A gun lay by his side. She hardly had the time to wonder why he had a weapon like a handgun before turning to see the... Monster? Floating ominously in the sky above. "Oh my god." Sophie rose her hands to her mouth in shock.

"Sophie... The gun."

Sophie didn't need to be told twice, as she rushed to grab it from the ground and stood between whatever the hell this thing was and her best friend. With more confidence than she knew she had she rose the gun and fired a shot. It hit, though the target was large enough that it wasn't a challenge. It whined and yelled in response, throwing bile in her direction. It missed, barely. Struck at her feet, it was far too close for comfort. Sophie rose the gun to her target once more and unloaded the entire clip into it. With an ear-breaking scream it began to fall, gripping to the ledge of the building and trying to crawl up to save itself. Her eyes widened when it seemed it could possibly really pull itself back up, but at the last moment a piece of the concrete broke loose causing it to fall straight down.

Sophie didn't realize how hard she had been breathing in panic until she felt safe enough to lower the handgun. Her head felt dizzy and dissociated. This was shock wasn't it, she wondered to herself. Turning back to Simon she crouched to his level and placed the weapon in his hand.

"What. Was. That?"

"It's the monsters, Sophie. I tried to tell you." Simon hissed as he tried to move his arm to lift himself back up.

"Here, let me help you." She positioned her shoulder under his good arm and slowly lifted him back to standing position. "We need to get out of here."

"You don't have to tell me." Simon responded jokingly, making Sophie huff. Carefully as she could, she led him down the building. It wasn't easy. He must have taken the most difficult route around the building as he could have.

"Couldn't you have just taken the stairs?"

"Building was locked."

"Ugh."

Helping him down from a ledge, they finally made it to a safe place in an alleyway. Sophie assumed it was safe, anyway. Hopefully safe.

"Do you want to explain to me more what the hell is going on?" She asked uncharacteristically forward.

"Monsters." Simon carefully rose his hands up to his forehead and jutted them out comically. "Monsters, everywhere."

Sophie wanted to laugh, but she was still shaken by the current situation. "I think whatever happened to your brain is happening to me too now."

"Ha. Maybe."

With that the conversation died for a time, the both of them re-gathering all of their thoughts on their predicament. It's cold. It's night. It's a city. And now there are monsters. Sophie looked out from the alleyway, spotting a park. A bus stop. Maybe a bus would come by and take them someplace else? It may have been wishful thinking, but just maybe.

"I'm trying to get home, I think you should come with me," Simon said suddenly while checking his phone. "I think I need to go home."

There was an odd sense of purpose in his tone, like there was some hidden meaning behind his words. She considered it.

"Why not just walk back to my apartment, it's not too far away."

"No, no apartments." Simon quickly interjected with disgust.

"Okay, okay. Is your mom waiting for you?"

"She keeps texting me so I'd say so," he said, raising his phone so that she could see the cryptic texts he'd been receiving all night.

"Okay." Sophie said with a pause. "We can take you home. It's probably safer out there anyway." It was true, if what he says is true and there are monsters everywhere in the city they'd better leave. A house has to be safer than an apartment anyway. She went to grab his arm to encourage Simon to move out of the alley with her, but her hand found the sensation of cold metal instead. Her eyes darted down to see he had handed her the handgun from earlier. "Simon?"

"You can shoot and my arm is a little messed up right now. Besides, I have a rifle. I think you should have it."

His rapid-fire reasoning resonated with her, so Sophie lifted it up close to her face to get a better look. "Okay. I'll protect you."

Simon chuckled at her proclamation.

"What?" Sophie asked a little embarrassed.

"Nothing. Thank you, Sophie. You were always there for me."

Sophie smiled and blushed a little, brushing a small bit of her hair behind her ear. "Of course. You're my best friend, Simon."

With all that felt like needed to be said was, the two of them cautiously left their hovel.


	3. Hospice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first drop of poison that leaves is the most relieving.

By the time Simon's pen hit the table his eyes felt heavy, phantom creases underlining his eyes. He looked to the window of his kitchen watching the sunlight filter through. It must be late morning, he thought. It was already late when he set out to change the course of his story, 3am, but it seemed extreme under that context. It was winter after all.

Slowly, Simon wheeled his chair out from his table and double checked the locks on his door. A nightly ritual that grew on him after some passing comments on the local area by his nurses. After, he made his way to his bedroom. It was a chore he became accustomed to, to lift himself out of his chair and into his bed. It was a bigger reminder of his changed life than the chair sometimes. Tonight, though, he navigated his thoughts to what he had written. Sophie was always there, why couldn't she be there in his mind too? He obviously needed help with his inner demons, but Simon was too emotionally walled up to ask for it. This, he thought, would be the next best thing. His best friend helping him fight the monsters in his mind.

It brought Simon comfort as he pulled the blankets over his shoulders, feeling his own bodyheat wash over him. It must have only taken him seconds to fall asleep.

A ring tone woke him in the evening. Simon groggily groaned and reached for his phone. Usually his instinct was to instantly hang up and decide later if it were important enough to call back, but Sophie's name read on the screen. He answered.

"Hej."

"Hej! Simon I have been trying to contact you for weeks, I have been worried."

A taste of guilt made its way to his tongue. "Sorry, Soph. It's been hard." Understatement as it was, he didn't have the energy to explain further. A small huff was heard on the other end.

"It's okay. Can I come over today? I want to see you."

"Of course."

There was a short pause on the other end. It made Simon wonder if something was wrong or if she was going to bring something important up, but she only responded in an up beat tone.

"Great, I can't wait. I'll be by in a few minutes! See you soon!" And then the call end tone.

Her sudden change in demeanor was confusing. He wondered why she was so suddenly excited to see him. Simon knew he'd been an asshole to her lately. He propped himself up by his elbows and made the harrowing transition from laying in bed to his wheel chair, then wheeled himself into the kitchen to make coffee. Upon entry he noticed he hadn't closed his journal. As if she'd somehow be there in an instant, barging into his apartment, he rushed to secure it shut. Now that he brought her into the story he definitely could not let her know what he was writing.

As promised, Sophie arrived minutes later with a soft double knock on Simon's door. "Come in," Simon shouted.

"Hej, Simon! How was your day?"

"I slept until you called me."

Sophie seemed taken aback, looking at her watch. Simon didn't know the time, himself, he didn't bother to check. She didn't offer the time herself seemingly shrugging it off while watching Simon down a cup of black coffee.

"You look so tired, but you also look better. Does that make sense?" Sophie asked innocently. She meant no insult by it and Simon knew. He still felt the comfort of his writing last night and felt more mentally sound this morning, he noticed. Usually he'd feel offended or annoyed, but not today.

"I finally got some good sleep. I just stayed up too late that's all."

"Oh good! I'm happy you're feeling better. You hadn't called me Soph in so long, I was really happy to hear it again."

Simon felt flustered as this was brought up, he didn't know that meant so much to her. The best response he could muster was a small laugh and a "yeah, I know."

The two began chatting like old times, sitting around and watching bad movies to laugh at until the sun went down. Simon needed this. It was late when Sophie finally told him she needed to leave to finish her homework for school, but she hugged him before leaving. Simon felt tears well in his eyelids from the well-meaned touch. He didnt typically enjoy hugs or physical affection, but it had been so long since he felt this stability again. Sophie quickly said goodbye and left for home.

It got quiet in Simon's apartment again, the warmth of the room dulling down again, but lingering. He turned his wheelchair around to look at his journal. Change doesn't happen overnight. At least, nothing permanent or really tangible. He was no psychologist, but he definitely knew that much. He needed to write more. He needed to know that everything would stay okay. 

Again he wheeled to his kitchen table and opened his journal. Simon read over his words and knew this would work. He again picked up his pen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hinting at OCD and that after effect of relief that doesn't last. He's certainly not cured of his toxic behavior, but he is in that state where one BELIEVES themselves to be far better before seeing it's much more of an uphill daily battle than you initially thought.


End file.
